Tuesday, 9 April 2013

Thatcher, The Marmite Baroness.

Possibly the most polarising figure of British politics
across any era, Margaret Thatcher remains as divisive in death as she was in
life. Wrangling over welfare cuts and simmering brinkmanship in North Korea were
temporarily tossed to the inside pages, on the announcement of the former Prime
Minister’s passing. The great, the good, the guarded and the grumpy, were
queuing up to extol and eulogize, or verbally eviscerate. No matter what your
opinion of her, it was hard not to have one.

The PM cut short his intended itinerary in Europe, dashing
to Downing Street and leaving the French
President without a dinner date. Pomp before politics perhaps, but he was never
going to miss this moment, or worse still, leave the tribute to a Tory titan to
his Lib Dem Deputy. David Cameron paid tribute to the “patriot Prime Minister”,
and her “lion-hearted love of this country”, a nation he said she not only lead,
but “saved”. Perhaps conscious of an impending onslaught of less obsequious outpourings,
Mr Cameron concluded with a reminder that Mrs Thatcher was also “a mother and
grandmother, and we should think of her family tonight.” It appears that those
popping champagne corks around the lions of Trafalgar Square may not have heard him.

The emotions erupting across every social media platform in
response to her death speak to the deep division Baroness Thatcher still
elicits. Time has clearly not healed all wounds. The passion with which she was
both praised and pilloried suggested the rupturing of ancient, long-untapped
arteries of antagonism, which were more than equal to the admiration she also
inspired.

Growing up as children of teachers, our standard of living
stagnated as health and education spending was steadily eroded. I may have been
trained to detest the avarice which underpinned Thatcher’s economic policies in
the 1980s, but the enlightenment of education and adulthood furnished me with
my own reasons to continue my disenchantment.

The relaxing of banking regulation in October 1986 is
directly responsible for the casino culture that caused the financial crisis,
and the grand privatisations just produced companies who will always put profit
before investment in infrastructure and provision of affordable public
services. That is why the only thing many rail commuters can rely on today is
an over-inflation fare increase every January.

Those that loved Baroness Thatcher should be allowed to mourn
their loss, and as for the rest of us, surely celebrating the death of an
elderly grandmother has no place in a civilised society. She may have said;
“there is no such thing as a society,” but that was just another thing she was
wrong about.

Thatcher died in the Ritz Hotel, while many of those on the
sharp end of her economic policies would be hard pushed to meet their maker in
a Travel Lodge. Tormenting her memory on twitter won’t change anything,
compassion and using your vote just might.

About Me

In my day job I edit and recycle the words of others, so this blog is a chance to play with some of my own. Thanks very much for visiting. If you liked some of what you have read, perhaps you would be kind enough to spread the word.